duty as god

we’ve both got crappy laptops and i like it
but i also like that yours is worse than mine but note
it’s not a case of ‘mine is better’, its a case ‘yours is worse’
which is to say it’s a case of convenience i’m just
better off laptop-wise, i suppose

comrade is a word i want to write right now
as in you feel like my comrade i feel like we’re comrades
for want of a better word to be honest but ‘comrade’ and let me tell you why

not in like a communist sense
although i guess we might be roughly in the same socio-economic class so
that’s something to consider but yeah we always work together

as in you’re not my work colleague you’re my mate

anyway when we hang out we work together
but for the hang out if you know what i mean
the hang-out-session
it’s always ‘what next’, ‘what today’
and we can always make things more exciting
‘let’s make a plan’ sometimes and enjoy making it and not really stick to it but yknow

enjoy ourselves anyway
but also sometimes being like “the plan the plan the plan” and we stick to it or
try to or make a joke of trying to

but also we’ve seen each other struggle and we’ve always tried to help each other
at varying degrees from
‘how do we solve this problem’ to ‘that was a fun problem to solve’ to
‘dude are you ok’ and i’d say i’ve seen you struggle more but on
cooking on video games and real life generally we’ve struggled together or
watched each other struggle

(cooking with you not real life confirmed) and i’d hate to draw a parallel here but it’s a poem after all so
it’s not a case of ‘my life is better’ or ‘your life is worse’ (weird, init?)
it’s just a case of ‘we help each other but there’s a dichotomy’

like if you were to draw a graph or something but anyway like
maybe what i’m saying is that i’ve internalised some kind of
guardian-complex that occasionally manifests as feeling an almost
poetic kind of duty to aid you
which upon reflection sounds weird but i wanted it to sound cute but
that’s not really the point it’s just an element of our friendship but anyway

the point is you’re a national treasure
a knight of my realm and i a knight of yours

but i’d be terrified of you reading this poem and hating it
and maybe you wouldn’t hate it but the risk feels too high

and it’s probably just a case of ‘your opinion matters to me and i have low self-esteem’ but i’ve been pointing these things out so there’s another element (and it is a poem afterall)

but yeah you’re nothing short of brilliant
and you’ve taught me lots of cool stuff
in cooking in video games you get the picture
i look up to you and truly god bless you


hot feet at night n try as i might i can’t
kick the feeling of feeling empty inside

and believe me i try

to keep busy /to excercise
maintain a tidy space/ a tidy mind
i try to be nice i do favours

but im lost still potentially without you potentially without
what you represented or the space you filled you
angel i miss you still

stand up dad says a man about 60
standing proudish but i can’t help but ponder how this must feel

stand up dad he says gesturing
n him and his wife have placed the old mans feet
squarely at the foot of his wheelchair

and the old man stares blankly ahead and through his son,
come on dad, stand up and his wife holds her hand out
old man takes her hand and makes as if to shake it /stand up dad i look away

i dread it and it makes me sad/ i think of the logistics
probably helped him into those shorts those sandals dad i dread it
the ever encroaching twilight years we think about our parents
ourselves and of our children and we think of the logistics

stand up dad persistent
daddy i believe in you and daddy can you hear me and
they help him up and hold him up and shuffle him along
and i am thankful for his wife for him and thankful for them both

things what i can do


i’m really good at chopsticks now i
not on piano but i could but
on food like on stir fries n this
evening i used frozen peas to
save time but to
practice pickin
things up with my chopsticks flippin
peas up nonstop choppin.stickin.
scoopin made me dextrous
correlative pace gone n helped me digestion
pea at a time, i save the best till last
i save the saucy noods sendin me saucy noods n i
can chop sticks when guiness comes knockin
peas pennys steak if guiness came knockin
other chop-sticks and porridge and chopsticks’ people
eyes and nosehairs and gag ref-lexes /can drive a lexus
flexin /girl with the flaxen hair

now there’s a song i can play

edward hopper early sunday morning

i’m lonely’s the problem
occupied but not quite motivated or
fulfilled and i’m lonely’s the backdrop

annoyingly i still miss your face
and i’m not sure if you’re entirely the reason but
more-or-less every day i think of you and miss you

i’m right it’s that i’m
lonely’s the problem
and i set myself up to get let down and i’m miserable,
useless, bad company, ugly
unremarkable, unmistakably

i wish things were that simple

thats the person i[d be with u that’s
the persons we’d b together i miss u  nd
long for u always for years n u know it

one day but i’m not
holdin my breath